


Cash or Check?

by AshenSky15



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1920s, M/M, a little bit of mcreyes at the start, can you tell this is my first fic?, end me, for now just mild spice, i'm sorry if this is shit, listen to electro swing while you're reading it makes it better, more characters and ships as the work goes on, more tags added later, mostly mchanzo, possible nsfw in later chapters, pretty gay not gonna lie, this isn't trans it's just a mulan situation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-30
Updated: 2017-03-30
Packaged: 2018-10-12 20:09:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10498584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AshenSky15/pseuds/AshenSky15
Summary: ** WARNING - UNFINISHED / NEVER TO BE COMPLETED**The girls are exceptional, swirling and stepping in perfect time. Large smiles grace their faces, occasional giggles bubbling forth as the music jumps and dips. Only a single flapper holds an air of regal dissatisfaction, her expression one of effortless seduction rather than jubilation; she catches Jesse’s eye instantly, and he suddenly isn’t just acting intrigued.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all! This work is written entirely by Sora, dedicated to Ash. Thank you for taking time to read my garbage, it's really appreciated. This is the first fic I've ever posted, so please comment and let me know what else you'd like to see from the story!  
> This is a 1920s AU, in which McCree works under the mob.  
> Enjoy!

The pulsing beat echoing out from the doors in front of him is irresistible; if it wasn’t for the strong hand on his shoulder keeping him grounded, Jesse knows he’d have lost himself to the music already. He’s lived in New York for more than a few months now, and yet the watchful eye of the strong man, Gabriel, currently escorting him like a shadow has kept him from every party thus far. The grip on his shoulder loosens slightly as they near the doors. Jesse knows he could slip into the crowd surrounding them with ease, but it’d be a dangerous feat. The throng of people around them is aggravating enough to Gabriel- he doesn’t even need to see the man’s face to know his expression. 

“Jessito.” Gabriel hisses a warning, feeling Jesse’s body tense with the thought of bolting. “Do not.” 

Jesse obeys; after all, who is he to throw off the entire operation just for a little fun?

The din of people around them is nearly as loud as the music, excitement and anticipation abounding. Concerns are forgotten as the crowd bottlenecks through the doors, thrusting the two mob men into the club; the air is permeated with smoke, eliciting a small cough from Jesse as they wander further into the space. 

Round tables line the walls and center floor, crowding the room even more so than the patrons, and yet nearly every table is filled. Gabriel spots a parlor couch unoccupied near the furthest corner and makes his way over, dragging Jesse along, away from the dancing. Despite all the space claimed by furniture, the largest section of the room is dedicated to a stage housing the band and a few girls, performing for the rowdier attendees as much as the seated ones. The lighting is dim, and Jesse hasn’t yet decided if it’s on purpose or not. He takes his seat next to Gabriel, pressed tight to the man’s side- a bit of time passes as Gabe surveys the area; noting small details, watching each face. At some point he sends Jesse to get him a glass of whiskey from the bar, and upon the younger man’s return, only swirls the drink around in the glass, barely sipping at it. Prohibition holds no water here, yet Gabriel still won’t let loose. 

It’s torture, watching the festivities in front of him and not being able to participate; Jesse grows impatient. He pushes himself impossibly closer to Gabriel, putting on the pout he knows is irresistible to his counterpart.  
“Gabeyyyyy,” Jesse drawls, pressing hard in his plea. “Cn’ I go scope out ‘round th’ stage?” 

His target pays him little attention, only a small glance serving as a reprimand. That sends the younger man crawling into Gabriel’s lap, straddling one of his thighs and leaning into his neck. Jesse adores the way he smells, all smoke and musk. He presses a tiny kiss to the exposed skin just above Gabriel’s collar. 

“Please?” His voice comes out weakly, almost a whine, keeping his lips poised, nearly grazing flesh. He feels Gabriel heave a sigh. The strong hand suddenly sliding along down his back to rest at his hip sends shivers over Jesse’s body; the touch is gone after a moment, with the grumble of, “make it fast.” Thankfully, the room is lively enough that their slightly risque exchange isn’t noticed. 

Jesse slips away before his boss can change his mind. The affair he’s had with Gabriel through the past months has taught him how to work his angles, how to penetrate the man’s steely exterior and get what he wants. More often than not Jesse simply submits, but tonight Gabriel’s focus is elsewhere and the young man seizes his chance to loosen the reins. 

Ordinarily, the flappers wouldn’t catch Jesse’s eye, but he needs an excuse to make his way towards the stage. It isn’t high off the ground, more of a slightly raised patch of floor than anything, but there’s still a clear separation of the patrons from the performers. He tries his best to seem admiring; acting as just another man looking for a girl to play around with. The girls are exceptional, swirling and stepping in perfect time. Large smiles grace their faces, occasional giggles bubbling forth as the music jumps and dips. Only a single flapper holds an air of regal dissatisfaction, her expression one of effortless seduction rather than jubilation; she catches Jesse’s eye instantly, and he suddenly isn’t just acting intrigued. She moves like water, fluid and sensual. 

He knows he isn’t bad looking, but something about this particular dancer makes him feel insecure, as if her almond eyes pierce through him with ease; that is, if she would grace him with a direct glance. Bringing a hand to his mocha hair, Jesse smooths back a few out-of-place strands, suddenly conscious of his appearance. There are a few other men standing around the stage as he is, sipping idly at drinks and laughing- Jesse suddenly feels awkward, glancing over his shoulder to see if Gabriel is watching him, waiting for him to return. It comes as no surprise that the man doesn’t even seem to notice Jesse’s absence, but it doesn’t hurt any less.

A rebellious train of thought revs up in his mind as the song ends, the girls stepping down in a flutter of feathers and sequins, a few others taking their places. He checks again to see if his boss is watching before making his way hurriedly through the growing crowd in pursuit of the almond-eyed flapper. 

He spots her near the bar, the near-cutaway back of her dress making it easy. Jesse is instantly impressed with the amount of skin she bares; it’s almost intimidating. Sauntering up to the counter next to her, he’s about to order a drink, but a cold glass is pushed into his hand before he can speak, and by none other than the almond-eyed girl. She’s even prettier up close- pale skin, full lips, and a rather sharp jawline. She’s wearing barely any makeup, and her boyish figure gives the short fringed dress she’s wearing an air of casualty.

It takes Jesse a few moments to realize he’s staring, and that she’d asked him something he hadn’t heard. 

“Ah, run that n’ by me again, sugar?” 

She somewhat smiles, allowing just the slightest curve of her lips as she drags her eyes up and down Jesse’s form. 

“Aren’t you a charmer…” 

It comes out as a statement, rather than a question; like someone pronouncing that the rain has ruined the day. Her voice is akin to wine, slightly accented, lower than Jesse had anticipated. He’s suddenly aware of the overwhelming heat of the speakeasy, tugging absently at the collar of his suit. She steps closer, treating Jesse like the only man in the world. He sets the glass down on the bar as the ruckus of the room fades to a dull background, hyper-aware of his own voice. 

“Y’ think so? ‘Cause seein’ ya dance got me all sorts o’ enchanted.” 

The next thing he knows, her slender fingers are on his tie, fiddling gently with the knot. 

“So fancy,” she muses, locking her gaze onto Jesse’s own; he swears she winks, but it might be his imagination. She brushes back a strand of inky hair from her face. They’re nearly chest-to-chest when, to Jesse’s dismay, a strong, familiar hand clamps down on his shoulder. 

“Time to go, Jessito,” Gabriel murmurs against his ear. The flapper withdraws instantly, shooting Jesse a saddened look before wandering off into the crowd. 

The young man’s form slumps, turning to face Gabriel “It ain’t what it looked like, Gabe, honest-” 

But Gabriel’s already heading out the door, expecting Jesse to follow; and like the lost puppy he is, Jesse does.

Thoughts of the flapper haunt him all the way home. 

Elsewhere, the subject of his thoughts strips away her persona, counting her tips and placing them on the dresser. Her gaze lingers in the mirror, wondering how much longer she’ll have to keep up her act; she’d come too close to trusting tonight, enthralled with the young brunette man the moment she’d noticed him staring. 

Just as every night, the flapper counts her blessings, eternally thankful everyone is so blissfully wrapped in their own lives and unable to see through her own.

**Author's Note:**

> For those of you who can't figure out what's up with the flapper, all will be told soon enough~


End file.
